Snow Stories
by scullyseviltwin
Summary: Mulder and Scully share snow stories over hot chocolate.


Title: Snow Stories  
  
Author: ScullyAsTrinity AKA Barenaked Bostonian  
  
Rating: PG, can you BELIEVE it? :-)  
  
Distribution: Fine and dandy like sour candy!  
  
Disclaimer: I have NEVER seen anything good come of snow from Carter! Except in Christmas Carol...  
  
Dedication: To a certain someone who is too damn busy playing 'Atomica' to talk to me! And this CERTAIN SOMEONE :::ehem::: thought I got PERMANENTLY STUCK in the smut rut! YEAH RIGHT!!! :-P  
  
THANKS!!! have to go to Aiah for spotting a potentially embarrassing element in here! I give my love to her!  
  
Summary: Mulder and Scully share snow stories over hot chocolate!  
  
Category: UST, MSR  
  
Feedback: I never get it, but sure, if you feel up to it! BNLXPhile12@aol.com  
  
---  
  
He wraps his arms around my back and I can feel the warmth sink in through my jacket. I can hear him sigh in my ear, but he stays just as he is. Is he  
  
afraid of scaring me off? Is he afraid that I will pull out of this welcoming embrace?  
  
I lay my head against his breast and listen to his heart thrumming steadily  
  
in his chest. The terrycloth of my worn robe rubs up against his worn jeans. We're both so worn down. From work, from life.  
  
He moves his cheek on my hair and I hear what sounds like a gasp. Inhale...  
  
exhale... he is smelling my hair. I hope it smells alright, I haven't had a  
  
shower since last night. I did some crunches since then and I do tend to sweat. He's not pulling away repulsed, so I think I'm all set here. Yes, I am set here. I could stay like this forever. His arms are so inviting, so soft and so sure.  
  
That little annoying voice that never ceases to appear does indeed show up,  
  
but before it can speak I mentally backhand it, and it's down for the count. It doesn't make a move to get up off the ground when he begins to softly stroke my back.  
  
I hum very quietly, and the lips that very as of late, playing in my hair, uplift into a smile that soaks through my scalp and into my heart.  
  
His arms tighten around me, as mine do him. Breathe, in out, in, out. It's such a simple task, but I forget to do it. In, out, in, out.  
  
I look at the *him* I keep referring to, and realize- it's you.  
  
I feel like I'm melting, in quite a literal sense. My eyes look upward, and  
  
I can see a fraction of your neck and when I move my head over, you make no  
  
move to stop me. There is a gentle smile on your lips and the light from the window is playing around in your hair. It shines and winks at me. I wink back.  
  
The chills have subsided from this cold winter day, and you are still holding me. I hear a whistling sound, and naturally tune it out.  
  
Oh, no. I can feel you shifting, you must hear it too. You gently move from  
  
my arms and look down at me.  
  
"Scully, I think your cocoa is ready." The smile is still resting on your lips. "Would you like a cup?" I ask almost shyly- almost. "Sure." You reply and follows me into the kitchen.  
  
In my mind, I can still see the snow falling, as it covers my car and the shovel that was beside it. I couldn't dig it out. And neither could you, and you got stuck here last night.  
  
You wound up in my bed, out of your sleep's accord and held me all night. The funny thing is, that I let it happen.  
  
Oh, but I love snow.  
  
"I love snow." You tell me, as you look over the rim of your mug. I sip at my cocoa and smile politely back. I know you will speak, I know you have more to say. "Sam and I used to make snow angels and then we'd see how long  
  
it would take the snow to swallow them up again. And we'd pelt dad as he came out of the house to go on an errand. He never yelled then-"  
  
Your thoughts are far away. I can tell, but they are rooted here too. It seems you are snapped out of it and look back at me, willing me to share a snow story.  
  
"I used to skate with dad. There was a pond twenty minutes away from the house in Maryland. We'd go there whenever it would snow. I would chase Bill  
  
around the pond until he got to tired to skate anymore and then he'd fall. Charlie pig piled on top of him... and dad just laughed. Mom- mom- was always sitting on the same log at the edge of the pond, thermoses in hand, for when we would get cold. She give us cocoa and hugs-"  
  
Your eyes hold tears, but I know you won't cry. The stories aren't for sorrow, solely for bonding.  
  
"I remember-" You try to pull the file out of your mental filing cabinet. Is the lock that tarnished? Will the key fit? "I remember the year Before-" you pause and fills the silence by taking a sip of your cocoa. "Samantha used to wake me up, every morning that it would snow, by stuffing  
  
a handful down my pajamas. One time, we both ended up with pneumonia from running outside without our 'winter garbs' on."  
  
I let out a snort that turns into a laugh. It's not so much because of the story, but the goofy expression that you now wear.  
  
"I can see that Mulder. I can REALLY see that." I say, and stand to get us both some more hot chocolate. "I know you can." He pauses again, and again, I can tell he wants to say something.  
  
"I can see *you* Scully. You in your blue snow pants and your sparkly purple jacket, with your red cheeks, with your cold red nose."  
  
I turn slowly around to face you, picturing the scene in my own head. I can see myself. The little purple jacket that mom kept so that I could show my- and the pants, with the clasps at the bottom.  
  
"Oh, and the mittens Scully. The fuzzy ones that matched the jacket. And the little hands that were inside of them were so warm, so safe-"  
  
You trail off as tears begin to run down my cheeks. I hadn't even realized that they were falling! And now I can't get them to stop! They are silent and I stand there.  
  
You make no move to get up, but sit there, and turn your attention out the window.  
  
"Do you ever wish that you could fall into the snow? You know, just be wrapped up in it? Forever?" You don't give me the time to answer. "When we had to synagogue, Sam and I would-"  
  
You trail off and don't bother finishing the thought. You are crying too, but you soon control it, and it doesn't even look like you had been crying.  
  
"Mulder," I ask quietly, "Remember last Christmas, when you came over to my  
  
apartment to drop off your gift? I remember when you got up to my door, and  
  
I opened it. I saw you with the flakes softly resting in your hair, the color in your cheeks and you nose."  
  
A smile upturns your solemn lips.  
  
"And when I invited you in and we sat by the fire?" "Yeah, I remember. Go on." you say to me. "That's it. That's all."  
  
You grin at me, and lift the mug to your lips. I walk into the living room with my mug and your eyes follow me. I soon am successful at lighting a fire, and then I sit on the couch. You join me, but hesitantly.  
  
"I love the snow." You say. And I smile. "I love the snow too." I reply, and rub my nose against yours.  
  
*FIN!*  
  
I WROTE PG!!! WHO'S PROUD????? 


End file.
